


Fostering International Relations

by pidgeonpostal



Series: The RWBY Hockey AUs [3]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, Alternate Universe - Olympics, Clover Ebi is a dumbass jock, Clover Ebi is a hockey player, Just some soft dorks getting together, Language Barrier, M/M, Minor appearances of major characters, Qrow Branwen is a figure skater, Qrow Branwen is a little shit, Rated for swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:54:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28155669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pidgeonpostal/pseuds/pidgeonpostal
Summary: Clover is head over heels for one of the Mistralian figure skaters at the WinterOlympicsVytal Festival, and he's not going to let a pesky thing like a language barrier stop him from turning on the charm. Luckily, Qrow has a thing for dumbass jocks.Oneshot, different flavor of AU than the other things in the series, but I want to collect all the hockey-adjacent AUs together.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Series: The RWBY Hockey AUs [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2016287
Comments: 14
Kudos: 62





	Fostering International Relations

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno I got really nostalgic about watching the Winter Olympics and this happened. I threw this up really quick in a vague fit of needing to _do_ something, apologies if I missed anything in editing.

“Who is _that?”_

Winter glanced in the direction Clover was staring. Across the arena, the Mistralian competitors had just walked in. The flagbearers were two tall, lithe people with striking black hair. From this distance, not much else was discernible, but their faces came up on the big screen above them for a moment, and Clover saw a flash of red eyes and beautiful angular features.

Winter scowled. “That’s the Branwens, Qrow and Raven. They’re the pair to beat for free skate.”

_Pair._ “Oh.”

Winter rolled her eyes. “The Branwen _twins,_ Clover. They’re siblings. And that’s all I know.”

“But they’re figure skaters, right? So you compete with them?”

“They compete as a pair, I don’t. Focus, Clover. This is being televised live.”

Clover turned forwards again with his media smile on, but didn’t stop glancing back at the Mistralian contingent. He’d have to figure out where they were staying. And if they spoke Atlesian.

* * *

He got his chance in the competitor’s village, a lovely little town that had sprung up overnight to accommodate everyone for the Vytal Festival. The hockey teams each got their own set of rooms with a shared lounge area, which had been delightful. When he left, Elm and Marrow were already moving furniture around to turn it into more of a den.

No cameras meant being able to wear something other than the Atlas standard greatcoat, and since it wasn’t _that_ cold, Clover opted to wear the vest without the long sleeve shirt or outer coat. Elm nearly dropped her half of a couch laughing when she caught him flexing by the door. “Already, Clover?”

Clover smiled. “We only have a week, after all. Why not say hello to all our competitors while we can?”

“‘Say hello,’ sure, sure. You’re going sleeveless in Atlas winter to ‘say hello.’”

“You know how I feel about sleeves. No sleeves, no—”

“—problem, holy shit Clover, how are you a caricature of yourself,” Harriet groaned, walking through the lounge to have a look at the fridge. “Just go, I’m not dealing with you at peak flirt again.”

Clover took that as a good sign, and opened the door. “Wish me luck.”

“Fall in a snowbank.”

At the second cafe he passed, Raven and Qrow were sitting across from each other in the warmth of the heat lamps, and looked about to fight each other. They were talking in rapid fire Mistralian, something that Clover couldn’t possibly make out. He walked past them to order. As he did, Raven’s eyes followed him, and her smile was far more predatory than inviting.

Qrow snapped something sharp at her, and she snapped right back, seemingly uninterested in Clover now. He ordered, and as he came back out of the building, Qrow was alone at the table. _“Siblings, huh?”_ Clover tried in Atlesian.

Qrow looked up at him, eyes wide, and wow, he was much, much prettier in person. Just, _wow._ He said something in Mistralian, probably going slow for Clover’s benefit, but he missed it entirely. Qrow’s eyes were a beautiful shade of red.

_“Nope, didn’t get a word of that,”_ Clover replied in Atlesian, mostly for his own benefit. He switched to what little Mistralian he knew and pointed out where he expected Raven had gone. “Sister, fight?”

Qrow’s mouth twitched. “Yes,” he said, still in Mistralian. No Atlesian, then. Clover would have to make do. He’d had to do interviews in Mistralian before, it would be fine.

“Clover,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Qrow.” Qrow’s hand was cold but perfectly smooth, like he was cut out of marble.

“What did you fight about?” That was the conjugation, right?

Qrow rolled his eyes. “Same thing as always, the—” he said a word Clover didn’t recognize. It must have shown on his face, because Qrow put out his hands and raised them, like he was carrying something.

“Oh, _lifts?”_ Clover asked, using the Atlesian word. He knew that was part of pair skating routines, where one partner lifted the other off the ice. They could get rather complicated.

Qrow shrugged and repeated the Mistralian word. “Lifts. Who lifts and who gets lifted.”

Clover nodded. “Sounds fun. If I lift, we get, uh,” Oh no. He knew the phrase the Mistralian team shouted during games, but he was drawing an absolute blank on which was the actual word. What order did Mistralian put adjectives in? Fuck. Better use both. “Fucking penalty.”

That got him a laugh. “You’re hockey, right? Ebi, from the Atlas team?”

Clover smiled. So Qrow _did_ know who he was, that was good. They’d be on equal footing. He’d looked up more about Qrow after the opening ceremony, and all of it just made him want to know Qrow more. “Yeah. Gold this year.”

“Dunno. Mistral’s pretty tough,” Qrow said, spreading his hands and smirking and oh, Qrow was _teasing._ Better and better.

“Gold,” Clover repeated firmly. “This year. Skating too.”

“Tch, pretty — of you.” Shit, Clover missed a word. But Qrow was still smiling. What had that word been? “Tell _Ice Queen_ I said hello. And good luck, Cloves.” Qrow bumped his shoulder and left, towards where Clover assumed they were staying. Clover watched him leave. Qrow was all legs, and there was a definite swagger to his walk. Half a building away, Qrow looked back, as if he _knew_ Clover was still watching, and winked.

Clover absentmindedly touched his shoulder. _“Wow.”_

* * *

Clover put on his best captain face and stood firmly planted in the center of the den, facing Winter’s armchair. “Winter, you have to teach me Mistralian.”

“I do not. I also don’t know Mistralian, so I don’t know why you’re asking me.”

“Qrow knows you! He has a nickname for you!”

Winter’s eye twitched as she looked up from her book at Clover. “I _hate_ that nickname, and if you know it, you know it’s in Atlesian. Qrow and I don’t talk. I don’t know Mistralian. Give it up.”

“But what if we could hit it off? The Vytal Festival isn’t that long!”

Winter stared incredulously at him. “You—no. I’m not getting involved in this.” She grabbed her book and made for her room. “Find someone else to rope into your hopeless romance.”

Clover looked around the room. Harriet glared back at him and shook her head. Vine didn’t look up from where he and Elm were playing some sort of card game, but Elm looked apologetic and shrugged. Clover looked at Marrow, taking up the entirety of one couch, his last hope.

Marrow sighed. “Yeah, okay. I learned it in high school.”

_“Thank you.”_

“Your inflection is horrible. And don’t thank me yet. If you start making puns in his language he might just run for the hills.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Hey, do you know what — means?”

Marrow froze. “What?”

Clover said it again. “I haven’t been able to spell it to look it up, and text to speech won’t parse it.”

Marrow pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Why did I sign up for this? It’s because the emphasis is wrong.”

“That’s exactly how I heard it, I’m sure.”

“Then he either hates you or wants to have sex with you. Maybe both.”

_Oh._ Clover couldn’t help but grin. “I can work with that.”

_“Brothers help me,”_ Marrow cursed into a couch pillow.

* * *

“Hey, Qrow!”

Qrow jerked up from where he’d been stretching. “Clover? What are you doing here?”

Clover shrugged casually. “Came by to say hi.”

“So you did. Your Mistralian is improving.”

“Got some help. I knew a little from international tournaments already, but it was mostly swears.”

Qrow snorted and went back to stretching. He had the rink reserved in a few minutes so he and Raven could practice. She’d be along eventually, but it was nice to have those few minutes to himself beforehand.

Clover cleared his throat. “Coffee? After?”

Qrow considered. He’d already decided Clover wasn’t bad to look at, if you liked the whole hockey jock vibe. Square features, broad shoulders, the earnest smile…okay, so Qrow really, really liked the hockey jock vibe. And the sheer confidence of asking someone out when you barely knew the language was…cute, Qrow decided. What the hell, he’d made worse decisions. Raven would give him untold shit about it, but she did that anyways. “Sure.”

“Great. Same cafe, in an hour?”

An hour of grueling practice runs later, Qrow was ornery and ready to pick Raven up and shoot for distance, but their routine was spotless and at least it would be over soon. He stalked over to the cafe, where Clover was already waiting at a table.

“Hey, Qrow, how was—”

_“Clover! How’s the date going with your little heartthrob?”_

A huge woman clapped Clover on the shoulder and shouted at him in Atlesian. Qrow blinked slowly and tried not to react to what she said.

_“Elm, not now!”_ Clover hissed back.

_“Oh please, you said he doesn’t speak Atlesian, it’s fine.”_

Qrow hid a grin behind his mug. So maybe he was curious, and maybe he was willing to let Clover jump to conclusions. Really, it was Clover’s fault for assuming.

_“He might still know that word!”_

_“What, ‘date?’”_

_“Elm!”_

_“Fine, fine. Tell me after. Unless you need to break curfew, then tell me before. I’ll cover for you,”_ Elm winked at Clover, looked up, winked at Qrow, and walked off.

Clover smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

“What was that about?” Qrow asked guilelessly.

“Huh? Oh no, uh, just a joke.”

“Can you translate?” It was so, so hard not to laugh as Clover’s eyes went wide. Definitely cute.

“Uh no, it’s—pun. Doesn’t work in Mistralian. So, uh, how was practice?”

Qrow sipped his coffee.

* * *

“Your — are shit.”

“My what?”

Qrow said the word again and mimed putting one foot in front of the other, leaning so far to one side he might have fallen over. “Crossovers,” he said again, and Clover understood. “Your crossovers are shit.”

Clover laughed. “They are not! They work just fine.”

“They look like shit.”

“It’s hockey, we aren’t graded on beauty like you are.”

“It’s not beauty, it’s technical and program components.” Qrow folded his arms. He was wearing something sleek and black and soft and Clover wanted to bundle him close and kiss him.

“Same thing.”

Qrow rolled his eyes but it was fond. “Done with practice?”

Clover hefted his gear over his shoulder. “Yeah. Game’s tomorrow, we’re off until then. Resting.”

“Uh-huh. Resting.” Qrow quirked an eyebrow. “You gonna rest?”

Clover’s heart skipped a beat. “Maybe. Team’s gonna stay in and watch a movie. Rest up.”

“Hm.”

_Ask him. Ask him!_ The words wouldn’t come, he’d forgotten the words. What were the words!? “Do you want to…movie?”

Qrow shrugged and said something about a horse. An idiom? It was in a warm tone of voice, though. “Does that mean…yes?” Clover guessed.

Qrow rolled his eyes. “Where’s the movie?”

Clover led him back to the team den before realizing he hadn’t told anyone. “One second,” he said, trying to smile, and slipped in the door.

The moment he shut the door he switched to Atlesian. “I invited Qrow back, please don’t ruin this for me.”

Elm gasped and threw her hands up. “You brought him back!? Oh where is he, we need to formally meet.”

“Elm please, this is what I’m talking about,” Clover begged. “Just, don’t scare him off, the entire team together is…a lot.”

“You haven’t met his team,” Winter mumbled from an armchair.

“I don’t even have time to ask about that. So: everyone cool? Cool. Okay.” Clover took a deep breath and opened the door again. “Ok, everyone ready. Welcome!” he said in bright Mistralian.

Qrow smirked. “Smooth. Hey Ice Queen, how you been?”

Winter glared. _“Thin fucking ice, Qrow.”_

“She says hi,” Clover lied, and steered Qrow towards the open loveseat.

_“Saved you the two-seater. Count shoulders!”_ Elm stage whispered.

Clover glanced at Qrow. If he got the gist of what Elm was saying, he didn’t show it. Just to spite her, Clover sat down at the edge of the loveseat, giving Qrow a gentlemanly amount of space.

Qrow looked at the loveseat, looked at the TV, then kicked a foot up and landed gracefully with his legs over one armrest, and lowered his head into Clover’s lap. “TV’s this way,” he explained.

Elm burst out laughing. _“I think I misunderstood. Who’s courting whom, Clover?”_

Clover frowned and tried to control his heart rate, which had skyrocketed the moment Qrow’s head hit his legs. _“He probably just doesn’t want to crane his neck, because_ someone _set up this chair facing the wall.”_

_“It’s facing the other one! Good for group games. And don’t give me that shit, that boy has you around his little finger, this is amazing. Absolutely your type.”_

_“I don’t have a type!”_

_“You do, and he’s it.”_

“You gonna start the movie or just chat forever?” Qrow said from Clover’s lap.

Oh hell, how could Clover explain this? “We, uh, were just—”

Winter snapped her book shut. _“Qrow, I will not tolerate this. Tell him, now.”_

Clover frowned. _“He can’t—”_

_“Don’t tell me what to do, Ice Queen,”_ Qrow said.

The room went dead silent for a suspended moment, before Elm, Harriet, and Marrow burst into laughter.

“You speak Atlesian,” Clover croaked.

“Yup. Picked it up a few years ago.” His accent was clearly Mistralian, but he spoke comfortably. He’d probably understood _everything._

“You heard Elm call you a heartthrob,” Clover realized with horror.

“I also _didn’t_ hear you deny it,” Qrow pointed out.

“Why didn’t you _say_ something?”

“You didn’t _ask,_ Cloves.”

Clover groaned and leaned his head back until it connected with the back of the couch. “I’m leaving. I’m going to go outside and bury myself in the snow.”

“Shame. No one would get to see your biceps anymore,” Qrow drawled. “The frostbite really brings out your eyes.”

That only made the rest of his team laugh harder.

Qrow shifted slightly closer to Clover. “Are we watching a movie or what?”

“Absolutely!” Elm said when she recovered from laughing. “No Mistralian subtitles needed, eh?”

They got the movie started and killed the lights. Clover felt one of Qrow’s hands grab his and rub small circles into his palm.

_“You good, Cloves?”_ he asked in Mistralian.

Clover smiled. He knew how to say this one. _“Fine, you little shit.”_

Qrow snorted. _“Fair enough. Hey, come down here.”_ He grabbed one of Clover’s lapels and pulled him down for a kiss.

Elm whistled. Clover flipped her off behind Qrow’s head, and felt Qrow smile under his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> \- I know nothing about the Olympic Village. I’m making all this shit up.  
> \- There was very nearly a version of this where Clover was the figure skater and Qrow played hockey because I know “the jock plays hockey, the goth figure skates” is extremely tropey but fuck it, I love tropes! But that version would also have been fun and if it speaks to you please do it!  
> \- I know nothing about how languages work overall, all of the language barrier stuff is completely made up and I’m sorry to any linguists who read this. _I’m making all this shit up_  
>  \- Except the crossovers bit, I’m very confident about the crossovers bit, I have been told by figure skaters that my crossovers look like shit but they work and that’s what matters to me


End file.
